


Almost Nothing

by Progman



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Compliant, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Fanart, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Progman/pseuds/Progman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a miracle that, out of all of them, it was only her father who died.  A sick, twisted miracle.</p><p>
  <a href="http://willoghby.tumblr.com/post/135277806415/orphans-comforting-each-other">Inspired by this soul-crushing piece of fanart by willoghby</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Nothing

Asami noticed the wing first. One of them. A crumpled, mangled mess of metal buried between the vines. Barely discernable from the rest of the wreckage, but then she'd designed it. She knew how it would break. How it would look after a crash.

The joy of triumph, of seeing Korra emerge unscathed, vanished. Shattered like a crudely crafted mask. Her arms fell to her sides and she turned away from the revelry. They called her name in fading static tones, every other syllable cutting out before the words could reach her. It was noise. It was only noise.

She couldn't.

She just---she just couldn't.

The calming greens and yellows of the portal dulled as she pointlessly approached the wing. Numb. She stared at it blankly. Just the wing. More left to find. She looked up and spotted part of the landing gear, frayed wiring still firing. Then, a little further off, the other half.

There was a trail.

Asami followed it through the ruined district and back into the city. As soon as her boots touched solid concrete, she saw it. The fuselage, the spine, the cockpit, the airframe. All reduced to a casket sealed by warped metal.

She tried to open it. Tried to frantically peel away at the damaged steel for  _something_ because it was the fire all over again. It was the same thing and the harder she pulled, the more spots she tried, the more she was back there again.

Helpless and forced to watch as they murdered her with lashes made of fire. Helpless and forced to watch as the giant crushed him without ceremony. Trapped beneath her bloodless body. Strapped to a chair that he'd forced upon her. Again and again and again and  _again._

Finally, she felt the metal give way to her desperate, meaningless clawing. With one final tug, her arms screaming louder than she ever had, she tossed the steel panel away and...saw him. What she assumed was him. What had to be him. There was nothing left for her to know for sure.

Nothing except the glasses still perched firmly over his eyes. She took off her gloves, reached down, her hands shaking, and picked them up with care. The right lens was cracked and the frame was singed. But it was  _there._  By some impossible miracle, it had survived.

Asami slowly turned away, back toward the way she came. She stared not at his glasses, but at the ground, her hair falling over her face. And then her hands stopped shaking. She didn't look up. She didn't need to. Mako and Bolin squeezed her palms, her father's glasses dangling between her fingers. Korra wrapped her arms around them all and Asami hid in the crook of her neck.

Her mother was gone. Her father was gone. She wasn't alone.

The static cleared and she finally let herself cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't going to include Korra, but this made sense for her. Fuck. Shortest fic I've ever written, but any longer felt wrong. Dialog felt wrong. Introspection felt wrong. Didn't feel like a moment where analysis was appropriate outside of as pure emotion as I could write. Not so sure I managed that, but I just hope it does the inspiration justice, even if it's only a little.


End file.
